


What to Do When Your Car Conks Out

by djsoliloquy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mechanics, Awkward Flirting, Car Sex, Cliche, Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, I Am Jack's Oral Fixation, Intercrural Sex, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex for Favors, Sex on a Car
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 19:58:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13325418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djsoliloquy/pseuds/djsoliloquy
Summary: “You ever do something other than fix cars in here?” Jack says. It feels too obvious. Too hungry. “Anything unexpected?”Gabriel sets the clipboard on top of Jack’s car. One step forward and he is very close to Jack. Face blank.“I try to leave room in my schedule for the unexpected,” he says.





	What to Do When Your Car Conks Out

The sun beats down and Jack zones out. The tow truck is loud, no AC, air rushing around them with the windows down. Them being Jack and the mechanic summoned by Jack’s roadside assistance. The patch on the front of the mechanic’s shirt says _Gabriel_.   
  
Gabriel’s sleeves are rolled up. Jack keeps stealing glances at the exposed dark biceps. No tan lines. Works shirtless, Jack thinks and lets his eyes roll closed.   
  
They can’t talk much over the wind. Conversation dried up on the roadside when Jack couldn’t find his wallet anyway. Open relief when, after babbling promises, Gabriel x-rayed him with a stern once-over and agreed to take him back to the shop anyway.   
  
But now—  
  
Now the lingering adrenaline in Jack’s bloodstream whispers the plots of a hundred cheesy pornos through every inch of him. To his ears, his voice sounds too warm, too pleased for having his busted car dragging behind them. Like he’s thinking about rubbing his cheeks against Gabriel’s stubble. Which he absolutely is. Just a little.   
  
At the garage, Jack runs his palms over his jeans. Maybe his fingers drag lower, along the inside of his thighs, when he takes a seat in Gabriel’s office. Trying to ground himself. The office—Gabriel—smells like leather, grease, and a deep masculine musk, like dirt and sweat and tobacco and spice. It’s good. He guesses they’re about the same age, mid-late twenties and finding their way, but Jack keeps bumping against the impulse to answer Gabriel with yessirs.   
  
The scrutiny doesn’t pass unnoticed. Gabriel glances over at Jack, then looks again, for longer. Jack meets the gaze square on.   
  
It lasts. Too long. Until Jack drops his eyes, to Gabriel’s mouth.   
  
He sees—Gabriel narrows his eyes, pupils dilating. It makes him look predatory, like a wild thing holding itself coiled back. A look of understanding between men, Jack thinks. Jack hopes.  
  
Then it ends. Gabriel leaves to check the car in. Jack faces forward in his chair and tries not to pant in the heat.   
Then he stands. He follows Gabriel out the door.  
  
Gabriel stands between Jack’s car and a shiny vintage model painted, of all things, purple and yellow. Jack starts to lean against it, trying for casual. He changes his mind and straightens up, whole body stuttering, undecided on what would look better. Gabriel glances at him and doesn’t react one way or the other.   
  
“Look,” Jack says, caught mid-posturing. “I can pay.”  
  
Gabriel doesn’t even blink. His eyes widen a bit.  
  
“You mentioned that.” Vintage oldies play over the garage radio. Gabriel pencils on a clipboard, swaying a bit to the AC/DC. “Nearest ATM is in town. I don’t have time to take you over.”   
  
The garage is empty, save the two of them. Gabriel sounds the opposite of rushed.  
  
Jack swallows and slowly, slowly, leans against the side of the Mustang again. It’s a vintage oldie too: early 90’s maybe, and despite the strange color, she’s a labor of love Gabriel’s hands have gone over countless times. At least that’s the thought making Jack flush all over. That, and thinking about being on his knees, wrenching down Gabriel’s denim and mouthing at his cock like he’s sloppy drunk. Strong hands cradling the back of Jack’s head until he swallows.  
  
Jack runs his thumbs along the inside of his back pockets, hips out. “What if we worked something out,” he says. He’s so aware of all the unfilled space in his mouth. “If you took payments off the books?”  
  
The pencil stops moving.   
  
“What,” says Gabriel. If Jack were to peg the facial expression, he would have called it  _solving complex math problem_.   
  
Solving complex math with those big brown beautiful eyes staring right into Jack.  
  
“You ever do something other than fix cars in here?” Jack says. It feels too obvious. Too hungry. “Anything unexpected?”  
  
Gabriel sets the clipboard on top of Jack’s car. One step forward and he is very close to Jack. Face blank.   
  
“I try to leave room in my schedule for the unexpected,” he says.   
  
The radio music is loud in Jack’s ears. He swallows, wets his lips.   
  
Something has to happen. Either Gabriel is going to kick him out of the garage and call the police, or Jack is going to drop to his knees and beg with his tongue.   
  
But nothing is happening. “Hey, whatever works. I can make a call to my bank if you…” Jack says, stopped mid-sentence when Gabriel reaches out and cups Jack’s face in his hands.   
  
Jack freezes. After a searching look, Gabriel kisses him.  
  
It’s such a careful kiss at first. Just the soft pressure of lips, Gabriel’s eyes closed, and Jack knows that because his own couldn’t be more open if he tried. He’s  _winded_  from it—the taste, the nearness of a man, the raw relief. Gabriel smells even better up close, and his mouth is warm, and his hands are warm, and his fingers are rubbing just behind Jack’s ears.   
  
When Gabriel draws back, Jack leans with him, chasing his lips. They stare at each other. Surprised, dazed. Turned on.   
  
Gabriel’s gaze drops to his mouth. So Jack yanks him back and kisses him hard.   
  
There’s no teasing, no seductive traces of tongue as they open each other up; Jack clings to the broad back of Gabriel’s shirt, kissing him open-mouthed, filthy and wet until they’re arching against each other. Jack’s so hard he might be dizzy from it.   
  
“Yeah, come on,” he says, panting. He’s all over Gabriel, can't get enough of all the muscle in his arms, until Gabriel is humming with pleasure. “God, you’re big. You like that?”  
  
“Yeah.” Gabriel shudders at his voice. He bites at Jack’s lower lip. “Wouldn’t say you’re on the small side, either.”  
  
He crowds Jack against the car and slides his arms around Jack’s waist, rucking up his shirt and palming his ass through his jeans. Jack’s hips jerk forward. There’s an answering erection along his leg, and that only gets him harder. It takes severe willpower not to dry hump Gabriel like a desperate mongrel.   
  
“Want,” Jack tries. He takes a shaky breath, trying to think around Gabriel’s mouth slowly taking him apart.  
  
“You want?” Gabriel says, hot against his neck. “What do you want, Jack?”   
  
Jack melts against him with a low, frustrated noise. Explanation is impossible. He folds at the knees, sliding down the side of the car until he can press his face against the crotch in front of him.   
  
Hopefully he's the very image of ravaged and hungry. “How dirty can you talk to me?” he says, undoing Gabriel's belt.  
  
There's a hissed  _jesus christ_  above him.  
  
Well. At least everybody is on the same page. When Jack looks again, Gabriel’s cheeks are flushed dark, eyes hooded. Both his eyebrows are raised at Jack. It takes a second until he seems to collect himself. His fingers card through Jack’s hair.  
  
“Have you been thinking about this the whole time?” he says, and Jack nods, because if there’s ever a time to be honest about how his life is apparently a porno, it’s now that he’s about to suck his mechanic’s dick in exchange for services. “Throwing yourself around the garage trying to get some cock inside you?”  
  
Okay yeah  _okay_. “Yeah. Yes.” Jack gulps. He waits with his fingers on Gabriel’s zipper. “So, that a yes?”  
  
Gabriel swears under his breath again. Those big brown eyes get wider, but he nods and that’s all Jack needs to open him up like he’s a gift on Christmas morning.   
  
He wants to sing, praise any higher power listening, when he pulls Gabriel out and into his hand. His cock is thick, wet at the head, musky and hot from working in a hot garage all morning. Jack buries his nose against Gabriel’s skin, inhaling deep. And finally, finally, he extends his tongue for a taste. He mouths along the length, drooling from realizing he’s going to be allowed to have this. Gabriel’s cock resting heavy on his tongue. Jack rolls that thought around in his brain, memorizing the shape of it as much as the dick actually inside him.   
  
“Wow.” Gabriel had gone silent, spare a few gasps. He recovers admirably. “I think you needed this, Jack. Damn. You could have stopped on the road, fucked a stranger at a rest stop if it was this bad. Like that?”  
  
Jack hears the double question—as much about the sweet talk as the sex, if it’s okay. And it is, god, it’s more than fine. Jack nods as well he can, eyes closing. They practically roll back in his head. This may be a dream. He’s had this one before, even. The work-dirty mechanic standing in front of him, Jack on his knees in the workshop, the doors of the garage open to the sun outside. His head cradled safe, and anyone could pass by and see Jack making a happy mess of himself, and Jack doesn't care.  
  
“You didn’t want that though,” Gabriel says, sounding breathy. Jack moans, can feel himself get wet in his pants. He fights getting his jeans undone with one hand. “No, you couldn’t sit around and wait, just hoping someone came by to set you right.”  
  
He lets go of Gabriel for just a moment, enough to get a hand around his own dick and start pumping wildly. The timing earns him a spurt of pre-come on the cheek, which Gabriel catches with his thumb and smears along Jack’s bottom lip, leading his mouth back to Gabriel’s cockhead. Jack savors it with all the lush enjoyment of french kissing.   
  
“You needed a man inside you today. Wanted to fuck yourself on a nice thick cock, and there I was, pulling up to help you out. Amazing you didn’t drop your pants there on the side of the road,” Gabriel says, and Jack sees stars behind his eyes, worked into a frenzy of lust and want. “Of course your wallet’s missing. Anything to get that mechanic inside you and your car, lubed up and working right after a deep, thorough check-up...”  
  
“Stop. Wait.” Jack pulls back, in time to see Gabriel’s eyes widen.   
  
“What is it?” The touch on his face is gone. Gabriel looks like he’s about to help Jack to his feet and hand him a blanket and a cup of coffee. “You okay?”  
  
Jack waves it away. “Fine, just. Almost came. I didn’t—not yet.”  
  
Gabriel stares at him. Then he stares upward, toward the ceiling. “You almost came,” he says, almost to himself. Takes a deep breath. And Jack can see the concentration, like an actor about to step on stage, as the sleazy auto mechanic rises to the surface.  
  
“I think I see what the problem is,” Gabriel says, and he takes Jack’s wrists and holds them over his head.  
  
Oh.  _Oh_.   
  
Jack gapes. He strains forward, trying to catch the head of Gabriel’s cock on his tongue. Gabriel pulls him back, moving him like a puppeteer.   
  
The rush of arousal that hits him makes Jack worry he might come again. The smallest, saddest sound of want denied escapes his throat. Gabriel doesn’t need to say anything; his face says it all. It's almost like awe.  
  
Both of them take a breath. “Not so fast?” Jack says.   
  
“Not so fast,” Gabriel says back, confirming. 

“Please.” It’s like being drunk, how hot the flush burns across Jack’s face. He knows how he must look, grinding his hips down, awkward and ridiculous and desperate. “Gabriel,” he says, because he wants to feel that on his tongue if he can’t have anything else. “I want to.”  
  
Want to get back where he can kneel and suckle and feed to his heart’s content. His dick is out of his pants, wet where he was stroking it. He wants to keep stroking it. He could; Gabriel isn’t holding him that tight. But he can feel Gabriel taking him. Like he can’t believe Jack’s a real thing.   
  
“What do you need, Jack,” Gabriel says, quiet. The birds chirping outside are louder. “When a vehicle’s backed up like this, it’s anyone’s guess how much it’ll take to get in and sort her out. I can take care of that,” he says and Jack’s hips pop forward, a tiny aborted thrust. “Could take hours, though. Detail work.”  
  
“Come on.” Jack wiggles in a full-body plea. Jerking off might feel better, but having his arms held over his head is amazing, somehow. “What do you need, me to sign a waiver? I told you I can pay. I want to pay.”   
  
_Please let me pay, please. Please._  
  
That does it. Gabriel pins Jack’s hands to his chest, and that slides Jack right where he needs. He draws Gabriel in until he’s nuzzling a thatch of wiry dark hair with his nose. His jaw aches and he loves it. He swallows and takes Gabriel deeper. Feels his wrists being juggled, and a tug in his hair. Gabriel, unable to stop touching.  
  
Jack groans, sucks harder. His knees are starting to ache, but he doesn’t want to move. He can’t have Gabriel stop touching him in this warm, intentional way, like the touches are as much for himself as for Jack.  
  
“You really did need this,” Gabriel says, and gets another blissed-out whimper, another twitch as Jack thrusts his hips into the empty air. “You’re working so hard just to come in your jeans. I’m not coming down your throat, though. Not that the effort’s unappreciated. Ready for air yet?”  
  
Jack purrs. But he does, slowly, draw back. He makes it pop.   
  
—and is hauled to his feet, his heart singing with a spike of adrenaline. Gabriel pulls him into the circle of his arms. He kisses Jack and catches his lower lip between his teeth briefly. Then they pivot, Jack handled onto the hood of the garage’s purple Mustang. Not that he’s paying much attention. His mouth isn’t full, so he’s free to moan and noise shamelessly while Gabriel slides his pants to his ankles, baring him from the waist down. Full view of the whole garage, if anyone walked in.   
  
“Fuck.” Jack tries to control his breathing. It’s so hot in the garage. He’s sweaty, shaking from Gabriel rubbing against him. Ready to be fucked. “Yeah. Come on, come on, let’s go.”  
  
Gabriel taps his dick on Jack’s ass. “Nice suspension.”   
  
“What happened to  _you really need this_?” Jack says. Gabriel eases on top of him, weight supported on an outstretched hand, but pressed flush to Jack’s body, and so warm. Sucking marks onto his neck. “I want to be washing engine grease and come and car smell off me days from now. Come on, damn it.”  
  
Jack keeps angling for Gabriel’s cock. Which he doesn’t get, but rather a slippery hand between his thighs, on his balls and dragging back to his hole. Opening him and slicking the way. He must moan, ragged and loud, because he barely hears Gabriel’s low _oohh my god_.   
  
“You rubbing your dick against my car?” he says in Jack’s ear, like he had expected to be annoyed by it.   
  
Jack whines. “Gonna need to. Wash it. After.”  
  
“Hose you both down,” Gabriel offers, and isn’t that an nice mental image. “If you want to be dirty, here’s what we do. Squeeze your thighs together. Tight. Cross your ankles.”  
  
Crystalline understanding of what Gabriel wants, right before Gabriel sinks his cock between Jack’s thighs. Jack can taste it in his throat. How thick Gabriel is, girthier in the middle and hot. How he feels pressed against Jack’s ass.   
  
Jack can’t feel his hands. Or toes. He drags his palms over the hood weakly. No room in his brain for extraneous sensation. There’s a sharp flash of pleasure when Gabriel thrusts right under Jack’s balls. “Like that, there, god. Gabriel.”   
  
“I know.” Gabriel’s voice is low, quiet. He reaches around Jack and takes hold of his cock. “Yeah. There you are.”  
  
So much. Jack gasps. Tightens his thighs to squeeze Gabriel’s cock, thinking  _more_ , thinking  _again_ , thinking of Gabriel’s fingers inside him, opening him up next time. Making a place in Jack’s body for his cock. Jack could return the favor. He could make it slow, so good, lavishing attention over every inch of him.  
  
Jack comes in Gabriel’s hand, with tears in the corners of his eyes. Leaving stripes all over the Mustang’s tires. When he can think again, he covers Gabriel’s other hand around his waist with his own, holding them together.   
  
“Want you to come in me,” he says, knowing Gabriel can hear even though Jack’s face is resting exhausted against the car hood. “All over my thighs. Fuck me hard.”  
  
Gabriel’s forehead falls onto Jack’s shoulder, swearing against his skin. His hips pound forward, and Jack starts thrusting back to meet him. Rising and falling on his car mechanic’s dick, moaning, those strong hands encasing his waist.   
  
Soon Gabriel stills, and Jack feels the hot splashes down his thighs. Gabriel hums, pleased, and rubs himself all over Jack like a cat. It occurs to Jack that he might actually be able to smell Gabriel on him for a few days. He feels a little dazed with that thought, stupidly aroused by it.  
  
The glow fades fast for him. He fucked his car mechanic and he doesn’t have his wallet. Is there any way to make his next words not sound like blatant prostitution? He also can’t move his knees with any degree of confidence.   
  
Gabriel is a gentleman and helps him all the way to his feet, offering a clean rag from a pocket for him to wipe off.   
  
Jack considers leaving himself filthy, but the prospect of sitting in jeans soaked with his and Gabriel’s come for the foreseeable future turns him against the idea. With slight regret, he cleans up. Offers the rag back.   
  
“Glad we could come to an understanding,” he says after a moment, pulling his pants up.   
  
“Oh, is that what we came to?”   
  
Jack winces. There are sounds of dressing behind him.   
  
“Besides,” says Gabriel, “we’re not square.”  
  
Jack’s head whips around. “I never . . . I really don’t mind paying. With money. I can get you that.”  
  
“Might need to order parts.” Gabriel slings the rag over his shoulder.   
  
Jack’s eyes follow it. He can feel himself pale. “How much might that run me?” His brain wants to start running worst case scenarios: Were there security cameras? Would Gabriel try to blackmail him?   
  
Gabriel raises an eyebrow. “You can start by taking me out to dinner.” Straight face, not a flicker at whatever Jack’s face must be doing. “There’s a place in town that does good steak. If we do order parts, they’ll be in the day after tomorrow. I doubt it would be anything expensive.”  
  
Slowly, Jack smiles.  
  
“Steak dinner, huh?” he says on an exhale. He gestures to the Mustang. “In this?”

“It’s just to town, we can drive my sedan,” Gabriel says, which is maybe the most shocking thing Jack’s heard all day. Then Gabriel pauses, mischievously work-appropriate and, Jack finds, charming. “If you want, I can take you out in her later.”  
  
Jack’s heart is fluttering for this man.

“Sounds like a date,” he says. 

**Author's Note:**

> written for the kinkmeme! [This prompt](https://reaper76-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/537.html?thread=39961#cmt39961) asked for a classic bad porn set up of the "oh gee mister mechanic I forgot my wallet maybe we can work something out aayyy" flavor. 
> 
> Title from [**this**](http://djsoliloquy.tumblr.com/post/157579121651/bigbigbigtruck-vulgarweed-peyta). 
> 
> all the thanks to stas, who cheerleaded the shit out of this and was a great source of character notes and inspiration


End file.
